Carole Mortimer - Mistletoe Magic

‘Lay him on the cot for me.’

Nick’s voice was flat, his eyes not meeting Eden’s as she did as she was told. She watched as he pulled off Ben’s nappy and carefully examined his groin.

‘He’s a bit dehydrated. We should put in a drip and do some bloods.’

‘I can try and give him a bottle. Maybe once he’s settled…’ She stopped talking as Nick almost angrily shook his head.

‘He isn’t drinking because his mouth is sore,’ he explained. ‘He’s got oral candida.’ Children the world over got thrush—there were two babies on the ward at this very minute with the same condition—but the huge difference was that Ben was three years old and was HIV positive, and thrush was one of the warning signs in a child like Ben that his condition could be tipping over into full-blown AIDS. ‘He’s got enlarged lymph nodes, Eden.’ Nick’s voice bordered on the apologetic, as if the news he was delivering was somehow his fault. ‘And from his notes he’s lost weight since his last admission. We need to do a full lab screen and see exactly where we are.’

The treatment room was the place of choice for performing procedures. Any child upset on the ward made the other children anxious and where possible patients were moved to the treatment room well out of earshot of the other children. Even though Ben’s skin would be numbed, the insertion of an IV and taking of blood was distressing for a small child, especially one like Ben who, even if he couldn’t feel it, knew exactly what was happening and his tears and distress would upset the other children on the ward. But Ben had passed through the doors many times and Eden felt him stiffen in her arms as she carried him along the corridor. ‘It’s OK, sweetheart,’ Eden said softly. ‘Dr Nick’s just going to fix you up with a drip so we can make you feel better very soon. He’ll be very gentle.’

They worked well together. Eden held the reluctant toddler firmly as he bucked and struggled to get off the treatment bed, one hand gripping his arm tightly as Nick attempted to bring up a vein. She talked to Ben all the while, smiling down at him as Nick cut up tape, knowing full well that IV access in a child had to be secured very firmly if a repeat procedure was to be avoided.

‘I’m in,’ Nick said, but Eden didn’t move, just held on tightly to Ben while Nick secured the bung then put an arm splint in place, immobilising Ben’s little arm and then applying a huge bandage.

‘Leave a gap,’ Eden reminded Nick, because the IV site needed to be checked regularly to ensure that the line was patent and there were no signs of infection.

‘Done.’

Only when Nick had said that word did Eden relax. At that point a child would normally be handed to his parents for a well-earned cuddle and Eden was more than happy to fill in, but Nick did the honours, scooping up his patient and holding him firmly.

‘I’m sorry, Ben, but that nasty old drip is going to make you feel much better soon.’

His clipped public school voice was supremely gentle and his firm grip still tender. Eden watched as Ben relaxed under Nick’s touch, the exhausting day catching up with him. His sobs became less urgent, fading into a hum, each blink of Ben’s eyes lengthening in time as Nick cuddled him to sleep.

‘He’s going to sleep,’ Nick said. He didn’t lower his voice but kept it steady. Most babies were soothed by background noise, comforted by an adult presence, but Ben in particular was more than used to the constant hum of a busy hospital ward.

‘Keep on doing what you’re doing, Nick. Ben’s almost impossible to get to sleep. I’ll go and prepare his cot and set up the IVAC. You’ve got time?’ she checked, knowing a lot of doctors didn’t list rocking babies in their job description.

‘I’ll make time,’ Nick said, not looking up, just holding the little guy tight. Eden had anticipated his answer—Nick’s patients came first always.

Of course, as soon as they laid him down, Ben awoke and, despite his sore throat, screamed loudly, his face purple as he simultaneously coughed and wept. All Eden could do was hold his hand and rub his forehead. She willed sleep to arrive for him so that his tortuous day would be over, but again and again Ben fought sleep. Every time Eden thought he was, and attempted to slip out of the room and check on the rest of her patients, Ben would break into distraught sobs, his oxygen saturation dropping markedly as he vomited.

‘Should you give him something to settle him?’ Eden asked, watching anxiously as Becky and Rochelle ran the length of the ward. She knew that she really ought to be out there, helping.

‘I’d rather not when all he wants is a cuddle.’ Nick let out a weary sigh, but suddenly his voice brightened. ‘I’ve got an idea. Wait here!’

As if she had a choice!

Turning her attention back to Ben, Eden offered him his soother again, gently pushed him back down on the pillow, feeling resistance in every muscle. But suddenly he relaxed, the soother in his mouth slipping as his red, chafed face broke into a smile that could only be described as wondrous.

‘Hey!’ Eden grinned back. ‘What do you see, little guy?’ Turning around, following Ben’s gaze, a smile broke out on her own face as she stared at the still crudely decorated Christmas tree, naked of tinsel and with the star at the top missing. But the lights she’d draped were turned on now, twinkling and flashing, and, Eden decided as Ben’s sobs gave way to tiny whimpers, never had a tree looked more beautiful.

‘See the lights,’ Eden whispered. ‘They’re all little fairies, little fairies looking out for Ben…’ She couldn’t go on, the words that normally came so easily as she soothed a distressed child off to sleep just too hard to say tonight. The words stuck in her throat as she wrestled with her tears, sniffing loudly and trying to smile down at the little boy.

But Nick was there now, tucking in the sheet around a now sleepy, docile Ben. Taking Eden’s arm, he led her out of the room and into the first private available space, which happened to be the store cupboard.

‘He’s got full-blown AIDS, hasn’t he?’ Eden gulped, waiting, hoping for Nick to deny it.

Instead, he gave a tired shrug. ‘We won’t know that until the blood results comes back but, I have to admit, it doesn’t look great.’

‘It could just be a simple case of thrush, though,’ Eden said hopefully. ‘And just because—’

‘Eden?’ Nick broke in, his voice questioning, his eyes narrowing as he stared down at her, taking in the swollen reddened eyes, the trembling hands, her top teeth biting her bottom lip as she made an effort to keep from breaking down. ‘Why don’t I feel like I’m talking to Ben’s nurse here? Why do I feel like I’m comforting a parent?’

‘I’m allowed to be upset,’ Eden retorted, pulling a tissue out of her pocket and blowing her nose. She pulled herself together and forced a smile. ‘Look, I’m fine. It was just a bit of a shock, that’s all. I really was expecting this to be a social admission. When you looked down his throat, I wasn’t expecting you to find what you did. It just threw me.’

He continued to stare down at her, those green eyes taking in every flicker. She could smell the citrus tang of his aftershave, see the power in his arms, and for a second all Eden wanted to do was lean on him, to weep into his chest, to feel those strong arms comfort her, to have him tell her that it was all going to be OK, that little Ben was going to be fine.

But, quite simply, she couldn’t, and, Eden realised, the horrible truth starting to sink in, neither could Nick say that Ben was going to be OK. So instead they stood there, for what seemed the longest time, Eden forcing a smile, pretending she could deal with this as Nick weighed up whatever was on his mind.